Happy Birthday, Fly!

    Harry opened his eyes. A young boy was looking him over. They were sitting in the hallway, dark and cold. The boy, a little older than Harry, smiled gently. “Hello.” His voice was calm and soothing.
    “Hello.” Harry himself felt oddly at peace. “I’m Harry. Who are you?”
    “Severus.”
    “…What are we doing here? Aren’t we supposed to be in our common rooms?”
    “It’s fine. They won’t find us, anyway.”
    “McGonagall is really strict…”...

This is one I pick about ghosts.

If you pick a type of horror story, I'll do a shout out. If you haven't, here's a link:

link

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The camp counsler gathered the kids around the fire. "Let me tell you a ghost story.

I found a diary entry. I found it by a burnt chruch. You want to hear it? Well, I will read it.

Dear Journal,

I went mad. I didn't mean too. I burn down the church. I...I...I killed and I made my sins. Wait! There's scratching at my door! No! No! N---

The rest was torn. I went inside the church and I almost vomited. There was the remains of the saint...

    Look around. You’re the same as you’ve always been, Hermione thought to herself on a lonely day. She was the same smart, helpful girl, who would always stay loyal to her friends.
    Things had changed, too. She had been sitting in her common room, writing her Potions essay, sometimes turning her head to see Harry and Ron goofing off together. She preferred her work, and was just grabbing a book when there was a knock on the common room door.
    When no one answered, she sighed. “Coming, I suppose.” And opening the door,...